


Who Am I to Leave You out in the Cold

by funkmetalalchemist



Series: Criminology 101 [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Armin gets drunk, Fluff, Jean is actually a sweetheart, Kissing, M/M, Sleepovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 09:05:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkmetalalchemist/pseuds/funkmetalalchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Armin Arlert was an A student. He was a logician, a thinker, the guy with a plan. Armin Arlert was decidedly not the type of student who risked his enormous scholarship by going to parties and getting drunk and going home with someone he just met. This fact, however, did not seem to prevent all of these things from happening."</p>
<p>Takes place concurrently with the final part of Blame It on the Weather, chapter one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Am I to Leave You out in the Cold

Armin Arlert was an A student. He was a logician, a thinker, the guy with a plan. Armin Arlert was decidedly not the type of student who risked his enormous scholarship by going to parties and getting drunk and going home with someone he just met. This fact, however, did not seem to prevent all of these things from happening.

It started with an invitation.

Connie Springer lived just two dorms down from Armin, and seemed like the kind of guy who knew how to balance school with his extracurriculars. The two had met after a short exchange in which Connie had asked to borrow a movie, and Armin had timidly told Connie that, because he had Netflix, the only movie he brought with him to Rosa Maria was his favorite film, Miss Congeniality. After Armin panicked briefly to himself about revealing his rom-com guilty pleasure to a near-stranger, Connie had interrupted him by excitedly proclaiming his love for Sandra Bullock. This cemented Connie firmly into Armin’s mental category of Friends.

What Armin did not expect was that Connie, despite the fact that he had all the makings of a studious introvert, could not seem to go a day without finding a party to attend.

“It’s just one party, Arlert. It’s not going to kill you,” Connie said as the two lounged on the common area couches, Armin typing away on his tablet, and Connie lying down on his back, playing a handheld video game.

“I’ve just never really been to a real party before. I’ve done some drinking with my friends in their basement, but that hardly compares,” Armin said, opening a new puzzle game.

“Well, that just makes it all the more necessary!” Connie sat up, closing his game. “You have to go to at least one, man! It’s college! This is what all those old people mean when they say, ‘get the college experience’ Armin!” Connie shoved lightly at Armin’s shoulder, grinning. “Plus I know you’ve been eyeing that Annie girl from our tour group the other day. She’ll probably be there.” Connie wiggled his eyebrows and made kissing noises at Armin until Armin retaliated with a shove hard enough to knock Connie off of the couch. Recovering quickly, Connie got on his knees at Armin’s feet, and, putting his hands together in a mock prayer while closing his eyes tightly, he began chanting, “Please, Armin, please, please, please!”

“Alright, fine, I’ll go!” Armin shouted over Connie’s pleas. Ceasing his repetitions, Connie’s eyes flew open and he broke into a wide grin.

Looking back on it, Armin would admit that he should have seen that flash of straight, white teeth as a warning sign.

-

Armin had discovered around age 17 that he was fortunately one of those people who could hold their liquor, but only at the price of the worst pain he had ever experienced. Every time he had gone out for drinks after that painful night (and even more painful morning after), he had made the executive decision to stick to wine coolers and light beer from that point on. And here Armin was, two months from turning 19, discovering that, as Connie had so eloquently put it, “Light beer is for pansies.”

Armin probably would have been fine nursing his beer all night if it weren’t for a particularly upsetting revelation: Annie Leonhardt was taken. At least, she appeared to be for the night. Tucked into a quiet corner, Annie’s neck was being given particularly keen attention to by a freckled, brown-haired girl that Armin thought he recognized from somewhere, but whose name he could not place.

After this realization came, so did a few more cans of beer, and two fingers of whiskey Armin somehow managed to choke down, and maybe a little vodka, and, though Armin wasn’t entirely sure, he would later on vaguely recall doing a body shot off of someone who, judging by their physique, was probably the football team’s star player.

Thoughts of Annie drifted away as Armin danced with strangers and did a fair amount of yelling. The night had become a haze of blurred vibrant colors and unfamiliar faces. Armin focused on appearing happy and sober until he realized, upon watching groups filter out of the crowded house, that he currently did not belong in either category. Frowning and setting down a plastic cup that he did not remember picking up, Armin began looking for Connie so that the two could walk home together. Keeping his hand on the wall for balance, Armin made his way through the house, which was suddenly bereft of the crowd that it seemed had been filling it only moments before. After several minutes, Armin decided to ask around.

“Have you seen Connie? Connie Springer?” Armin asked a small group of people gathered in the kitchen. Armin belatedly realized that he was in the process of leaning against the kitchen counter, and his hip hit the granite roughly before he had a chance to buffer it with his hand. Sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth, Armin rubbed at his hipbone. Having now abandoned any semblance of sobriety, Armin relaxed slightly, accepting his own drunkenness. The group looked on, their expressions varying from put-off to mildly amused.

“He left an hour or so ago with that Sasha girl.” Armin turned to the source of the voice, blinking slowly to get the face in focus. It was a boy with his hair parted down the center and an upturned nose covered with a light coating of freckles.

“Thanks. You’re very symmetrical,” Armin informed the boy, gesturing toward his face with a solemn finger. The boy laughed and thanked Armin quietly as Armin turned to go. As he turned, he was only stopped from running into another person by the hands placed on his shoulders, steadying him as his body continued going through the motion of taking a step forward.

“Easy, tiger,” came a smooth voice from somewhere above Armin. Looking up, Armin met eyes with a beautiful, perfect face and its beautiful eyes and beautiful smile and beautiful two-tone undercut. Apparently some part of this thought vocalized itself, because the small group, now behind him, laughed. Armin felt a pat on his back, knocking him off-balance again into the arms attached by proxy of the shoulder and neck to that beautiful, perfect face, whose mouth was now chuckling quietly.

“I am taking you home tonight,” Armin whispered loudly as he grinned widely, probably too widely, at the taller boy.

“Aren’t you Jaeger’s friend?” Beautiful Perfect asked, nodding back at the still-laughing group behind Armin before grabbing Armin’s arm and pulling him carefully a few steps to the side.

“Yeah, Eren is my best friend! How do you know Eren?” Armin smiled open-mouthed now. A common interest!

“He’s my roommate.”

“Oh, so you’re Jean! Man, Eren hates you. I don’t know why, though. You seem very nice. Not a douchebag.”

Jean smiled at Armin.

“So, you don’t drink a lot, do you?”

Armin frowned. “No, not a lot. Not this much.”

“Rough night?” Jean asked, watching Armin carefully, a matching frown now adorning his face.

“Yeah. Yeah, rough night.” Armin looked into the corner of the room he remembered having seen Annie and her girl in, but it was now vacated.

“Strike out?” Jean asked. When Armin continued staring, Jean snorted. “Yeah, me too.”

Armin finally turned back to look at Jean, who was running his fingers through his hair ruefully.

“Listen, you should probably go home, man,” Jean said with an abrupt change of tone. “Classes start tomorrow and you’re going to have one hell of a hangover.”

“I was going to go with my friend Connie, but he left. He’s probably at his girlfriend’s apartment.” Armin pouted at the wall.

“Have you eaten anything tonight? Had any water?” Jean looked concerned now. His hand was still on Armin’s shoulder.

“I… had water?” Armin said in a tone that felt more like he was asking Jean for verification.

“Oh, man. Okay, hey, I’m going to see if any of the guys want to come get some food with us. You have to get something else inside you or you are going to have one hell of a first day.” Jean let go of Armin’s shoulders, whispering a clipped, “One second,” before turning to talk to the group now standing idly in the kitchen. Jean turned to point to Armin with a sad sort of look on his face as he spoke to the others, who all looked at him at once. Armin gave a small wave, and the symmetrical one from earlier smiled kindly at him.

Jean came back after a few moments, smiling again. “Alright, the others are walking back to the dorms soon but Marco is okay to drive and he’ll be coming with us to go get some food, okay?”

Armin nodded at Jean as the symmetrical boy (whose name was apparently Marco) came up behind him. Armin heard the sound of jingling keys.

“You guys ready?” Marco asked, removing the source of the noise from his pocket and smiling at each of them again.

As the three approached the door, Jean’s step stuttered briefly as he looked over at Armin. He let out a short laugh.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“My name is Armin. Arlert,” Armin added as an afterthought.

Jean stuck out his hand for Armin to shake, and it took Armin a considerable amount of concentration to shake and walk at the same time, so he simply stopped walking and held his hand toward Jean, who smiled.

“Nice to meet you, Armin.”

-

Jean had elected to sit in the backseat with Armin on the ride in order to ensure that he did not get carsick during the short ride to the restaurant. Jean told Armin to stare at a fixed point if he felt nauseated, so Armin stared at Jean.

“You really are beautiful, you know,” Armin said quietly after a few minutes of silence, the car radio set too low to hear. Jean finally looked over, as if he had just noticed Armin had been staring.

“Thank you, Armin. You’re very beautiful, too.” Jean smiled.

“No, I’m not. Not like you.” Armin’s voice did not waver.

“Sure you are, Armin. You’re plenty beautiful. You’ve got those giant blue eyes, and your hair is a lot prettier than mine. You’re pretty damn cute, if you ask me. Hey, Marco,” Jean turned to the driver, tapping on his shoulder. “Armin’s not a bad-looking guy, right?” Marco laughed from the front seat.

“Not at all.”

“See? We all agree. You’re a hot piece of ass, Armin Arlert.” Jean smirked at Armin’s laughter.

“You should have seen me when I had a bowl cut.” Armin giggled, covering his face as Jean and Marco joined in.

-

The restaurant was about as empty as you could expect a 24-hour diner to be at some ungodly hour early Monday morning. The three ate in a small booth, talking about classes and their families as Jean shoved glass after glass of water in Armin’s direction, insisting Armin take his fries, too.

“You’re going to make me sick, Jean. I can’t eat this much,” Armin insisted, shoving his plate away.

“Oh, God, are you going to be sick?” Jean scooted down the booth, further away from Armin.

“No, I just can’t eat anymore.”

“Wow,” Marco said, looking at Armin, impressed. “You can really hold your liquor, huh?”

“Not tomorrow morning.” Armin moaned just thinking about it, leaning his head fall back against the back of the seat. “I’m so tired.”

“You’ve got classes tomorrow, right?” Jean asked as he signaled the waitress for the check.

“No, I’ve got Monday free this semester,” Armin said distractedly, throwing his arms over his eyes.

“Lucky you,” Jean mumbled, taking out his wallet and giving the waitress his most charming smile.

-

The three scrambled out of the cold night air and into the car, Marco and Armin thanking Jean profusely for picking up the check.

“Where are you two headed, then?” Marco asked, turning his key in the ignition and immediately turning on the heat.

“Armin, how about you stay with me tonight? So I can make sure you don’t, you know, die choking on your own vomit,” Jean joked, buckling himself in.

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Armin said as he closed his eyes and let his head fall to rest on Jean’s shoulder. Eren would be there. He remembered texting Eren earlier on in the night, and Eren had sounded upset. If Armin had to guess, he would say that something went sour with that Levi guy Eren was clearly head over heels for. It would be nice for them to talk it out. Armin missed Eren.

“I miss Eren.” Armin’s voice was muffled against the shoulder of Jean’s jacket. Though his eyes were closed, Armin could feel Jean’s arm snake around his shoulders so that his hand rested in Armin’s hair, brushing through it gently with his fingers.

Armin must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, they were in the parking lot of Jean’s dormitory. Jean shifted slightly, shaking Armin’s shoulder lightly.

“We’re here?” Armin asked, forcing his eyes back open. He had been so comfortable.

Jean propped Armin up in his seat to ensure he wouldn’t fall as Jean made his way carefully out of the back seat of Marco’s car. Jean leaned down outside of Marco’s window and whispered a thank-you before reaching inside to give him a pat on the back. He then returned to the back seat and unbuckled Armin, awkwardly helping him out of the car.

“Here, put your arm around me,” Jean instructed, grabbing Armin’s arm and placing it around his shoulder rather than waiting for Armin to do it. Armin mumbled something unintelligible. Jean hooked his arm around Armin’s waist and looked at him in the glow of Marco’s slowly fading taillights.

“What was that?” Jean asked, fishing his student ID out of his pocket so he could open the door to the dorm.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Armin said more clearly, though still slurred by sleep and the alcohol still in his system. He coughed lightly and continued, “You didn’t have to do anything. I was really stupid tonight.”

Jean smiled. “I couldn’t leave a little kitten out in the cold, now could I? Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Jean and Eren’s room was only on the second floor of the building, but deciding to take the stairs seemed like a poor idea at this point. Armin was half asleep, still curled into Jean’s side as Jean guided him toward the old creaky elevator everyone always seemed too scared to use.

As the elevator lurched up, Armin seemed to be shaken from his near-sleep, and startled off of Jean’s side, turning to look at him. Jean looked back at him, smiling.

“You still with me, Armin?” He asked over the grinding hum of the elevator.

As a means of responding, Armin got up on the tips of his toes and pressed a small kiss onto Jean’s cheek. Jean’s eyes widened in surprise as he blinked down at Armin, who seemed to have settled himself nicely back into Jean’s side. Feeling warmth spread across his cheeks and over the tip of his nose, Jean broke into a smile and leaned his own head down onto Armin’s, breathing in the smell of liquor, french fries, and the slightest hint of lavender for the rest of the ride up.

When the elevator finally came to a frighteningly abrupt halt, the doors creaking open loudly, as if announcing their arrival to the entire floor, Jean whispered into Armin’s hair, managing to avoid getting any of the blond strands in his mouth.

“What, do you want me to carry you, Arlert?” Jean joked. “Let’s go.”

“Carry me, please.” Armin reached up and wrapped his arms around Jean’s neck tightly, not giving any warning before giving a weak jump and trying to land in Jean’s unprepared arms, landing solidly back on the floor.

“Slow down, soldier,” Jean laughed, adjusting Armin’s position to the front of his body. “Alright, jump on three. Ready? One, two-“ Armin gave a second weak jump, impressive enough in his current state, and Jean caught him this time, only mildly embarrassed that his hands were cupping Armin’s ass. He hitched Armin up a few times, finally settling Armin into his lower stomach, his arms holding Armin up. Armin dug his face into Jean’s neck and Jean stifled a giggle at the tickle of Armin’s breath against his skin. The elevator doors closed behind them as Jean made the short walk down the hall to his room, Armin in tow, still breathing lightly.

The issue of opening the door while still holding Armin was problematic, but easily solved. Jean propped Armin between his body and the wall adjacent to the door, using the one hand not still propping Armin up in order to throw his key into the lock and open the door. Shoving his keys back into his pocket, Jean leaned Armin off of the wall slowly. Carrying Armin into his room, he decided to give Armin his own bed, setting him down on it gently before grabbing a blanket from underneath his bed and laying it out on the floor.

“Where’s Eren?” Armin asked from the bed. Jean stood up to look at him. Armin was sitting on the edge of the bed, his legs dangling, not quite reaching the floor, and the blues of his eyes reflecting the streetlights shining in through Jean’s window.

“I, uh, I asked Eren to find another place to sleep tonight,” Jean admitted, sidling up next to Armin on the bed. Armin stared at him.

“Why?”

“It’s kind of a long story. Basically, I thought that this girl and I had a thing, and I wanted Eren to have someplace to stay if she decided to come back here, so I asked Eren if he could stay out of the room tonight, but at the party she sort of blew me off. Pretty badly, too.” Jean sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“She is missing out. You’re a catch, Jean Kirschtein. I’ll tell her. Gimme her name.” Armin yawned loudly through the last sentence. Jean laughed and got up off of the bed.

“That’s fine, Armin. I can handle it, and you and I both need to sleep.” Jean smiled down at him as he pulled his comforter over Armin, hoping Armin wasn’t the type to mind sleeping in his jeans. Armin made no protest about it, though.

“Are you actually tucking me in right now, Kirschtein?” Armin whispered tiredly.

“You bet your tiny little ass I am,” Jean smirked down at Armin, whose eyes were already closing. Jean paused briefly before lowering his head to lay a kiss on Armin’s forehead.

Armin’s eyes flickered back open and after looking at Jean for a moment, his eyes rolled dramatically.

“What?” Jean asked, worried he had crossed a line.

“If you’re going to kiss me, do it for real, moron.” Armin murmured, his thin fingers reaching up from his side to cup Jean’s cheek.  Jean leaned back in slowly as Armin’s chin tilted up, their eyes locked until the moment their lips made contact and Jean’s eyes seemed to close of their own accord.

It was the slow, lazy type of kiss that flowed like deep breaths, each one taking their own turn feeling what the other’s mouth felt like against their tongue. It was warm and comfortable and sleepy. Jean’s hand came up to run through Armin’s hair, and when they parted, neither one was sure who ended it.

“Alright,” Jean said, leaning back in to kiss Armin once more on the corner of his mouth, “Time to rest, Sleeping Beauty.” Jean ran his hand through Armin’s impossibly soft hair another time.

“Sleeping Beauty woke up when the prince kissed her.” Armin mumbled sleepily, leaning into Jean’s touch when his hand brushed Armin’s cheek. Yawning noiselessly, Armin shoved himself onto his side, and almost immediately fell asleep. Jean sat back on the edge of Eren’s bed, watching Armin with a small, private smile for a few too-short moments before he finally arranged a makeshift bed on the floor and let himself fall asleep.

-

Jean woke up to the sound of a banging noise at his door. What in God’s name would be so cruel as to wake him up before his alarm went off on the morning after a party? Suddenly, the answer to that question came to him: _Eren_. Jean scrambled to his feet and glanced nervously at the soundly sleeping lump on his bed, relieved Armin had not been woken up by the noise. Armin was going to be absolutely dead this morning. He heard a key in the lock and briefly panicked – Eren would probably murder him if he thought that Jean had slept with Armin last night. After all, Eren was still under the impression that Jean had “gotten some” the night before.

The door was slammed open, Eren breathing heavily in the doorway. He cast his glance over to Jean’s bed and rolled his eyes. Jean breathed a sigh of relief. Eren had not appeared to notice that the blond hair peeking out of the top of the dark green comforter was Armin’s.

“What’s the deal, Jaeger?” Jean accused in a whisper, watching Armin to make sure he didn’t wake. “I thought we talked about this.”

Eren was grabbing things off of his desk and shoving them into his backpack. Was he late for class? Who schedules a class for Monday at eight in the morning? Eren must be some kind of masochist.

“First off,” Eren began, still packing his bag, “we never reached an agreement when we had the ‘sleepover’ conversation, so you’re lucky I decided to stay out of here last night, and secondly,” Eren finished zipping his backpack shut and he turned to face Jean. “I’m running late for my first class and I don’t want to flunk out like you eventually will.”

Jean blushed and stammered at Eren’s back as he turned to leave, caught between his desire to retort and his fear of waking Armin. Giving up, Jean stepped forward and shut the door.

“God, my _head_.” The voice from the bed confirmed that Armin had in fact awoken. Jean moved to his bedside, placing his hand on where he assumed Armin’s back would be, as Armin had completely covered himself with the blanket. “Can you cover the window?”

Jean looked over, and the blinds on the window were half-open still. He paced over to them and closed them as tightly as they would allow.

“Better?” Jean asked, making his way back over to the bed.

“No,” Armin moaned. “God, I’m an idiot.”

“So, uh, how much do you remember about last night?” Jean asked in as casual of a tone as he could muster. He grabbed a small wastebin from under Eren’s desk and placed in below Armin’s head, just in case. Jean had taken a while to fall asleep after the night before. He had been thinking about their kiss. Jean had done a lot of casual kissing before, but as casual as the kiss felt, it didn’t seem like the type of one-time thing that would end with a few unanswered texts and nods from across hallways. Jean felt comfortable with Armin. He could only hope that Armin felt the same way. The object of Jean’s thoughts let out another extended moan.

“Pretty much everything. There are some fuzzier bits at the party, but I still have most of it. I’m assuming you’re trying to ask if I remember us kissing, and yes, I do. Can’t imagine how bad my mouth must have tasted. Oh, God, I hate to ask, but can I borrow a toothbrush?” Armin’s form stirred slowly underneath the comforter, his head finally popping out. His hair was tousled wildly, his dark eyes were only half-opened and his lips were parted slightly. Armin should have looked a mess, and anyone else would, but Armin managed to look even more angelic rather than debauched.

Jean stared at Armin, his mouth making the motions to form words, but with nothing coming out. He recovered quickly, shaking himself out of his trance and pointing toward the sink where a toothbrush laid next to a half-rolled out tube of toothpaste. Armin huffed as he rolled himself off of the raised bed, rubbing his eyes as he walked the short distance to the sink.

“Yours is the green?” Armin asked, picking up the green toothbrush.

“Y-yeah.” Jean reached up to scratch his neck as he blushed.

“How are you not writhing in pain right now?” Armin asked as he put a heap of toothpaste onto the brush and began brushing thoroughly.

“Moderation?” Jean guessed. “I was not nearly as drunk as you were last night.”

“Mm.” Armin mumbled through his toothbrush. He removed the brush from his mouth and spat. “I swear I’m not usually that dumb.”

“I’m starting to see that, yeah.” Jean hopped onto his bed and watched Armin as he examined himself in the dirty mirror hanging above the sink.

“I look awful.”

“You look cute.” Jean said before he could stop himself, his ears reddening. Armin turned to look at him and smiled. “I’m serious.”

“If you’re into that just-got-hit-by-a-train look, yeah.” Armin joked.

“As it happens, I am.” Jean shot back slyly.

The two looked at each other and the kiss they leaned into seemed only natural, until, after only a second, Armin pulled away.

“What?” Jean asked.

“Your turn.” Armin tossed Jean the toothbrush he still had in his hand. Jean laughed and apologized. As Jean started brushing his own teeth, Armin sat back down on Eren’s bed, running his hand across the quilt neatly folded on top of it and watching Jean.

“You know, Jean,” Armin began slowly, nervousness edging into his voice, “if you ever want to hang out with me sober, I know a great pizza place.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was so much fun to write! Again, a huge thank-you to my beta, Katie, who is absolutely amazing, and who seems to have some sort of superpower for coming up with titles.   
> I'm still working on Blame It on the Weather! Don't worry! It will be finished. It should have a total of two or three chapters, but as I'm still hammering out some details, I won't cement either one in place until I'm certain.  
> Thanks for being so supportive of Blame It on the Weather, by the way! I got a way bigger response to that than I thought I would and I am so grateful for that. You guys are great. :)


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